The Lonely Hearts
by CobaltRose96
Summary: Mal and Natara investigate a terrifiyng new killer, one who chooses his victims through a lonely hearts column. As you can see, I suck at summaries. First ever fanfic, so please be gentle! Rated K  for scenes of murder and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, hey there! This is my first ever fanfiction, so apologies for its supreme suckiness. It was kinda rushed, but hey. I'm p!ssed at Natara for getting with Smarmy Santos, but there you go. I'm currently ill with a stomach bug, and writing and eagerly awaiting reviews are the only things that make me feel better. (Subtle hints FTW). So please, sit down and enjoy (If it's at all possible to enjoy **_**this..) **_**and please review, or I'll teleport to wherever you are and upchuck over your head, because I'm just that charming. Who am I kidding, I love you fellow writers really :3 . I'll stop babbling now, and let you get on with reading! Ciao! **

**Hannah (CobaltRose96) **

Chapter 1

Kayliee Ferndale tossed her bottle blonde hair over her shoulder, showing perfectly straight, white teeth as she laughed. The date was going well. The man opposite her was charming, funny and seemed to be a real gentleman. Everything she had ever dreamt of.

It was getting close to midnight. The posh, upscale restaurant they sat in was beginning to empty as diners paid their bills and left.

"So, Kayliee..." Her date, who called himself Derek, said, "It's been a great night. I've really enjoyed spending time with you."

Kayliee smiled.

"Yeah, it's been pretty great."

Derek smiled back.

"It's getting late. This place is going to close up in a few. Should I drive you back to your place?"

"I don't know you that well…." Kayliee shrugged helplessly, "You can't blame a girl for being cautious."

She was briefly taken aback as a spark of what seemed to be anger flashed within Derek's steel grey eyes. Anger and…. No. What was that? _Hunger? _

The spark was gone as quickly as it had come, and Kayliee was left wondering whether she had simply imagined it.

"Well, sure," Derek said, leaning on his arm in a gesture of casual conversation, "but I don't want a pretty gal like yourself finding her own way home in the middle of the night. You never know who could be out there. Rapists, kidnappers…"

He leaned closer towards Kayliee.

"… Murderers."

She cast a glance towards the inky blackness outside. Derek was right. San Francisco was a dangerous city at the best of times, and since this new spate of killings had begun, people were becoming extra cautious. It was like the Maskmaker all over again. She swallowed.

"Sure. I'd like you to escort me home..." It was hard for her to speak past the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Then it's settled then!" Derek grinned and signalled to the nearest waiter to fetch their bill.

"Thanks for driving me home." Kayliee said, as she stepped over the threshold of her luxury apartment. The leaves of the trees on either side of the front door whispered softly in the slight breeze.

"It was no problem, really."

"Do you want to come in? A drink, maybe?"

The man smiled and adjusted the sleeves of his smart, slate grey suit.

"No, no. I really should be going. It's late, and I've got work tomorrow."

"Oh, okay then. Goodnight. I'd love to see you again." She smiled her most beatific smile.

"Goodnight. Oh, by the way…" He leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"What?"

Derek wrapped his arm around her waist, and instead of placing his mouth upon her cheek, spoke into her ear.

"You were right to be cautious."

Kayliee had no time to react as the knife plunged into her back. She choked as blood flooded into her lungs.

'Derek' stepped back, the knife concealed in his sleeve now slick with blood. A faint smile crossed his lips as the woman's legs gave way beneath her. Coughing and spluttering, gasping as her life leaked out of her, the last thing Kayliee saw was the man leaning towards her, another, smaller knife glinting in his hand. There it was again, that hunger in his eyes. She hadn't imagined it.

The world darkened around her, and Kayliee Ferndale took her last breath.

Detective Mal Fallon sat with his partner, Special Agent Natara Williams, in Rip Van Winkles, talking amicably with each other over breakfast. It was a beautiful California morning, and the sun shone through the glass roof of the restaurant.

"So, how was your trip with Oscar?" Mal asked casually. Outwardly, he seemed cool about Natara's continuing relationship with the attorney, but secretly, he fought inner turmoil whenever his partner spoke of Santos. He sincerely wished that he could be the one that made her as happy as Oscar seemed to, but he knew it was a futile hope. They were partners and friends, nothing more, nothing less.

"Mal... Mal!"

"Huh… what?" Mal shook himself out of his reverie.

"I was just telling you about the trip!" Natara explained, exasperated but not truly angry, "Are you okay? Something on your mind?"

"No, no," Mal lied, "Just got that Monday morning feeling."

"Well snap out of it! You could at least pretend you're interested." She jostled.

Mal grinned.

"Sorry. I'll try. Please go on…"

"Humph. Well. Like I said…"

Natara was interrupted by the trilling of Mals phone. He picked it up, glanced at the display and winced.

"It's the Captain. I gotta take this."

"Sure. Go ahead."

Mal pressed the green button on his phone and placed it to his ear.

"Captain."

"Good morning, Detective Fallon." Captain Maria Yeong greeted.

"Morning Captain. Got another case for us?"

"Yes. Another Lonely Heart. Young, attractive, blonde."

Mal massaged his temple, while Natara looked on, worry creasing her brow.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, that's what I want you and Agent Williams to confirm. But yes, it does seem that we have another serial killer on our hands."

"Okay. Address?"

The Captain told him the address where the latest victim had been found, while Mal scribbled it down on a nearby napkin.

"Thanks Captain. Goodbye."

"I want this guy brought in, and soon."

"You have my word, Sir."

"Good. I expect nothing less. Goodbye, Detective."

"Another Lonely Heart?" Natara asked, already suspecting the answer but not wanting it confirmed.

"The Captain reckons so."

"Another serial killer. More mindless slaughter."

"Ah hell..."

"Ah hell indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

**What's this? An update? So it is! Thank you X1000 to Layla for reviewing! You've made a sick gal feel very happy! :D I've never written a fanfic before this, so this is very much an experiment. You're still reading, so it seems to have worked. YAYZ. Enjoy! **

Chapter 2

Detective Mal Fallon and Special Agent Natara Williams pulled up outside a luxurious apartment block. Melldosa Heights, home of the semi-rich and nearly-famous. Tall, lush trees swayed in the breeze, and the sun reflected off the roofs of the many expensive hybrid cars parked in the lot.

Mal stepped out of the car, and whistled as he took in the view.

"Whoa. Wouldn't mind living in a place like this."

Natara exited the car and stood beside Mal. She nudged him, and then gestured with her hand to the fourth floor of the block. Crime scene tape had been plastered across the front door, garish even from this distance, and figures in white suits carrying briefcases and evidence bags scuttled in and out of the property.

"Yeah, well, minus the murder."

Mal and Natara made their way up to Apartment Number 24, where they were greeted by Kai Kalaba, wearing his usual garish attire. He was kneeling just inside the entrance hall of the apartment, closely examining the body of a young woman. He grinned and jumped up when he saw the two officers approaching.

"Hey there, guys." He grinned.

"Morning Kai." Natara chirruped.

"Got anything for us?" Mal asked, by way of a greeting.

"Well, she was stabbed, for sure," Kai said, pointing to the blood on the body and floor, "and if I turn her over..." He gently grasped the woman's shoulder with his gloved hand and pulled her forward, revealing the single stab wound in her upper back, "Looks like a single stab. Not very big, but pretty deep. There's blood in her mouth and throat, so I'd say the blade punctured her lungs. She probably choked on her on blood. Pretty gross, huh?"

"Got the murder weapon?" Mal enquired, tactfully ignoring the tech's last comment.

"Nope. The apartment and surrounding area have been searched. Nothing's been found. Although there's a trail of blood leading from here to the parking lot."

"So, the killer either got injured themselves, or took the murder weapon with them." Natara theorized.

"Yup. We'll be waiting on DNA tests to confirm whose blood it is, the victims or the perps, but I'd say it's a safe bet that it's the victims, since the weapon can't be found here."

"Have we got an ID on the vic?"

"Uh-huh. A purse was found next to the body. It's been taken to the lab for analysis now, but there was a driver's licence inside. This gal here was named Kayliee Ferndale, 23 years old. Although." Kai said, glancing at the woman, "Her hair was considerably longer in the picture."

Kayliee's blonde hair, dyed, was cut close to her skull in a crude, hurried way. There were a few nicks and scratches on her scalp, as if it had been done with a sharp instrument and an inexperienced hand.

"That's….. bizarre," Natara said, her brow furrowed, "why would the killer cut her hair afterward?"

"To conceal her identity?" Kai suggested, shrugging.

"If that was their intention, why not just take her purse? That would at least delay her being identified."

"A memento, maybe? Most serial killers take trophies, after all." Mal offered.

"But none of the other victims had their hair cut."

"Somebody committed a copycat murder, and then put their own spin on it? Maybe it's unconnected with the other two murders."

"Maybe the killer was a wannabe hairdresser?"

"KAI!" Natara and Mal said in unison.

"Sorry…. Couldn't resist." Kai hung his head.

"Well, how about resisting temptation next time? Come on Mal, let's take a look around."

"Lead me not into temptation… I can find the way myself!" Kai sniggered, but his smirk disappeared as the two officers strode off.

"Pssh, get a sense of humour. Jeez." He grumbled, before continuing his examination of the body and surrounding scene.

Meanwhile, the man with many names sat in his cluttered apartment, Kayliee Ferndale's hair clutched in his fist. It was wrong. WRONG! He threw the hair down onto the floor in disgust. How could he have been fooled? He drew in a breath, slowly, released it. Slowly. He got up from the sagging couch and strode purposefully, ignoring the dry rustle and crunch of the debris under his feet.

"Just think. Think. Plan. Yes, planning. Planning is everything."

He made his way over to the only clean, organized place in his apartment. His shrine. His mementos. A testament to his work. He placed his hand on a particular glass case. Earring and necklaces glittered in the little light there was in the room. Each piece of jewellery was carefully laid on black foam, meticulously cleaned and dusted. Beautiful. He stepped away from the cabinet and surveyed the room. Filthy. Disgusting. But that made it even more special. He turned back to his shrine. This beauty amongst filth, this... What was the saying? Diamond in a dungheap? That was it. It made everything else beautiful. It made sense to him, if not to anyone else.

That was all that mattered.

He became aware that his hands were shaking.

"Soon. Soon. We must wait a while."

He walked over to the coffee table and picked up the lonely hearts column. Three ads had already been cut out. He picked up a pen and studied the others.

_Slim female, 50s, seeks fun male aged 45 – 60 for fun and drinks._

No. That simply wouldn't do.

_Attractive brunette female, 35, seeks male aged 25 – 40 for dinner and dancing. _

No. Not quite.

_Attractive blonde female, 22, seeks fun, adventurous male for fun and possibly more. _

Perfect.

Unable to stop a grin from spreading across his face, he circled the ad with a shaky hand, and then picked up the phone and dialled the listed number.

The phone rang a few times, and then a chirpy female voice spoke.

"Hello? This is Darcy speaking!"

"Hello Darcy. This is Martin, responding to your lonely hearts ad."

As they spoke and arranged a meeting in a few days' time, 'Martin' could feel his excitement building. And something else as well. It was almost a physical presence, deep in his gut.

There it was again.

The hunger.

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUN! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Mucho gracias to all those who have reviewed so far! When I woke up this morning to find that I had 7 reviews, well, let's just say that I was happier than a pig in sh… well, you know what I mean. I'm one of those writers that just sits down and writes as they go, and I only have the very basic plot ideas laid out, so I'm not entirely sure how many chapters there'll be, so.. yeah. **

**Thanks for reading my story so far, and please enjoy the next chapter! **

Chapter 3

That afternoon, Mal and Natara sat in the precinct bullpen, going over the case so far. Three manila folders were laid out on the table before them.

"So, we have the first victim…" Mal said, opening the folder furthest to the right.

"Linda Jakes, 21 years old, a trainee schoolteacher." Natara stated, as if she already knew all this off by heart.

"Yup. She was found down an alleyway in the Galverstone District. She was originally from Salt Lake City, but had lived in San Francisco most of her life."

"Stabbed?"

"Affirmative. They found eight stab wounds on her body. They were all over her, two in her stomach, three in her chest, one in her left leg, two in her right arm.

"Investigators found pearls scattered around her body."

"They did. Seems like she was wearing a necklace and the killer took it as a little souvenir."

Natara nodded.

"They didn't suspect a serial killer to begin with, did they?"

"Nah," Mal confirmed, "Galverstone District is a tough place. Murder is a way of life there. Like Junk mail or flat tyres, no-one likes it, but it's normal. People are used to it."

"Seems like you know a lot about that place..." Natara stated evenly.

"Yeah. My Dad used to go there a lot, to do his 'business'," He spat out the last word, as if it was something disgusting which, in all probability, it was.

Natara could see that they were straying into dangerous conversational territory. She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright Mal. Those times are gone now. You don't have to keep dragging up painful memories. Those times are over." She smiled empathetically.

Mal returned her smile, and then sighed.

"I know, I know. Thanks."

"No problem. Now, let's take a look at the next victim."

"Sure. Why not?"

Mal closed the first folder and opened the second.

"Hayley Lyle. 27 years old. A doctor's office receptionist."

"She was found at the edge of some parkland in Edgware." Mal read.

"Edgware. That's a well to do suburb. Very much a middle class place."

"Yeah. Very much unlike Galverstone. This is the first homicide in Edgware for twenty years."

"Let me guess, she was stabbed?"

"Bingo. Four times in the back."

"Hmmm," Natara was thoughtful.

"Got something?"

"No… Well, yes, but no. Just an observation, really."

"Shoot."

"The first victim was stabbed multiple times. I'd bet it was a sudden attack. Frenzied, in a probability. The scattered pearls suggest that the necklace was grabbed and torn from her neck with force. The second victim was again, stabbed multiple times, but all the wounds are located in one particular area, not all over her body, like in the first victim. Was anything taken from Hayley post-mortem?"

"Well, blood and scratches were found on her earlobes, which suggest that she had earrings in, which were ripped out with force."

"And the third victim," Natara continued, reaching for the third and last folder, "was stabbed once in the back, and had her hair cut off."

"The killer is becoming more skilled with a blade. More meticulous."

"He's taking his time now." Natara gulped.

"Who knows what he'll do to his next victim?"

"That's why we need to stop him. Before he gets a chance to let us know."

**LATER**

Natara rubbed her temple. A headache was beginning to build behind her eyes, and she and Mal were no closer to getting a solid lead.

"The only connection I can see is that all the victims were blonde." Mal shrugged.

"So we have a victim type. Aside from Kayliee, they were all natural blondes. I guess the killer was fooled by the last victim."

"Possibly. But aside from that, there's no connection between them. They all lived in different areas, had different jobs, earned different salaries…"

"They also, in all probability, moved in different circles, had different friends. Is it likely that the victims had ever met one another?"

"Not particularly."

"Exactly. We're back to square one!" Natara was exasperated.

"Not quite!" piped up a chipper sounding voice.

Mal and Natara turned as one to find Data Analyst Amy Chen standing a few feet behind them. She appeared excited, but then again, there was rarely a time when she wasn't.

"Hi Amy," Mal greeted, "got something for us?"

"Yup. It's not a smoking gun, or knife, or, you know…."

Both officers smiled.

"What is it Amy?" Natara asked gently.

"Oh! Well, I guess it'd be better if I showed you."

"Lead the way." Mal said.

Amy walked the two officers down to the lab, where Kai was sitting in a far corner, hunched over a computer. He turned and grinned sheepishly at Mal and Natara.

"On the Sims again, I see." Mal stated, raising an eyebrow.

"What? NO! What an accusation to make! The Sims? At work?" Kai blustered.

Suddenly, his computer pinged, and the distinctive music of the Sims loading screen blasted out. Kai appeared to jump twenty feet into the air, before banging on various keys in order to silence the music.

Amy rolled her eyes, before leading Mal and Natara to a computer. On the screen was a series of grainy images. White numbers could be seen in the corner.

"Security camera?" Natara enquired.

"Little did the killer know that the whole apartment block is riddled with them! I contacted the security company and they provided me with the security tapes from Sunday evening and Monday morning." Amy said.

Her fingers danced across the keyboard as she brought up another series of images. The numbers at the bottom gave the date as early Monday morning. The time – 12:18am.

"That was about the time that the Medical Examiner said Kayliee died." Mal said, staring intently at the screen.

"Yup," Amy pressed a button on the keyboard, and one of the images began to move, "this camera," Amy explained, pointing to the top left image, "is situated high up on a pole near the parking lot. It gives an image of most of the surrounding area, including any cars that come or go. Watch."

All three pairs of eyes locked on the grainy video.

For a few seconds, all that moved were the leaves on the trees, but then, in the far right of the screen, a car could be see pulling into the lot. The colour and license plate were impossible to make out in the gloom, but the make was easily identified as a Cadillac.

"I can change the contrast of the image in order to make things easier to see." Amy explained.

The car came to a stop, and then the doors opened. From the passenger side door came a woman with blonde hair that appeared bright white in the video. Her hair came down past her shoulders.

Kayliee.

In the driver's side door there came a tall, broad shouldered man. He stepped out of the car, before turning and facing the camera.

"Stop there," Mal said.

Amy paused the image, before pressing a number of keys. The image zoomed in on the white oval of the man's face. Suddenly, the image lightened, and a pair of hooded eyes and the blurry slit of a mouth came into view.

"It's pretty low quality, but it's the best you'll get, I'm afraid. There aren't any cameras within the doorways of the apartment, just in the stairwells and at the beginning and end of the walkways." Amy said regretfully.

"Hey, it's a start." Mal said.

"Look!" Natara pointed.

Kayliee's slim body was blocking part of the car, but in the bright contrast of the edited image, a sequence of numbers and letters could be made out.

"It's not the full plate; about half of it, but it's a lead, at least."

"Thank you, Amy." Natara smiled.

"Sorry I couldn't provide you with more."

"Oh don't worry; this is more than enough to get us started. We have a partial license plate and a vague idea of what the killer may look like. It's more than we could of hoped for."

"C'mon Natara, let's find ourselves that car."

Kai jumped again as the two officers walked past his station.

Mal and Natara shared a grin.

**Well, imma stop for a bit because my hands are starting to ache. Over 1,400 words! If you've made it this far, then thanks, cheers, Gracias, Danke and ta! Please review! They're like drugs to me, and I need my fix. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Woo! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! And yes, I am feeling better, although I've gotta see the doctor **_**again **_**on Monday. Bluergh. Anyhow, I may not be able to update as frequently as I like, or as frequently as I have been previously, since exams are coming up and that requires a lot of revision and mock exams and shiz. Ew. But I will try and update as often as a can. I'll probably squeeze as many chapters in as I can during this weekend, since I hate to leave you readers hanging! **

**Enjoy! **

Chapter 4

"Jeez, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack!" Mal grumbled as he nudged the car through the many immaculate streets of Melldosa heights. Tall, imposing apartment blocks loomed on either side, and rays of brilliant sunshine winked from the spaces in between the buildings.

"Well, we're looking for a Cadillac, most likely to be dark coloured, with the sequence 2F7YD in the last half of its licence plate..." Natara said from the passenger side, reading off of the piece of paper in her hand.

"Well, that narrows it down considerably," Mal said dryly, and his words were laced with sarcasm, "how many rich big shots drive a Cadillac?"

Natara rolled her eyes, but otherwise made no comment.

"Ugh. This is pointless. The killer wouldn't hang around the scene of his latest murder, would he? Not unless he _wanted _to be caught."

"That's why we've got officers searching the areas around the other murder scenes. We've also circulated a description of the possible car, with a reward for information."

"Pssh. Not that these guys would need the cash." Mal sneered, glaring at the nearest luxury home as though it had made a rude gesture at him.

"Exactly. They wouldn't need it, but they'd _want _it. Just because they've got plenty of riches already, doesn't mean they wouldn't want to line their pockets a little more. I know that from my father." Natara explained.

Mal made a non-committal noise in his throat.

Suddenly, Mals mobile trilled, startling him and Natara both.

"I'll take it," Natara said, picking up the phone and glancing at the display before placing it to her ear.

"Hello Captain," Natara greeted, "yes, Mals driving."

She was silent for a few moments, and Mal could hear the Captain speaking in her usual brisk tones, tinny in the distant reception, but still undoubtedly the captain's.

"Oh. Okay. Are you sure?" Natara asked, and she sounded hopeful.

More talking, unintelligible to Mal.

"Well, that's lucky. We're driving round Melldosa as we speak. Of course. We'll check it out. Thank you Captain. Goodbye."

Mal turned his head towards his partner, an eyebrow raised.

"Mal, we need to head towards Mayflower block. It's about 11 blocks to the East. Kayliee Ferndale's ex-boyfriend would like to talk with us."

"Sounds promising."

….

A few minutes later, Mal pulled up outside another apartment block, identical to all the others except for the word 'Mayflower' planted in, well, flowers at the far end of the parking lot.

Mal sniggered.

"Fancy."

Both officers exited the car and took long sweeping glances of the area around them. Far away, parked in a spot near the westernmost point of the lot was a sleek, expensive looking vehicle, painted a dark green colour. The license plate was indistinguishable from this distance.

"Looks like a Cadillac to me."

"Let's go in and talk to the boyfriend first, then we'll take a look." Natara urged Mal.

The two of them made their way up the apartment block, the smell of fresh paint and flowers permeating everything. Occasionally the curtains would twitch in the large glass fronts of the dwellings, and curious faces would peer out. Police officers were a rare sight in this area, and no doubt the residents were still jumpy from the murder.

They made their way up to the seventh and topmost floor of the block, their calves burning.

"This better be a good lead," Mal grumbled, "I ain't having my legs turned to jelly just so some toff can talk to us about his dandruff."

Natara fought off a grin before saying, "Well, the Captain wouldn't of urged us to come here unless the lead had some substance to it, and like I said, he's the victim's EX-boyfriend and he drives a Cadillac."

They located Apartment Number 17 and Mal rapped smartly on the glass door. After a few seconds the curtains parted and the door slid to the side to reveal a tall, but nonetheless slightly pudgy man with floppy dirty-blonde hair and green eyes. He looked to be in his late 20s.

"Hi there," Mal greeted with a smile, not a hint of his previous crotchetiness in his voice, "Detective Mal Fallon of the SFPD here, and this is my partner, Special Agent Natara Williams." He flashed his badge.

"Are you Charlie Fairhurst?" Natara asked.

The man smiled and nodded.

"Yes, yes I am. Uh, please, please, come in." His accent was undoubtedly Californian, but the way he pronounced certain words spoke of a private education and elocution lessons.

Charlie backed away from the door to allow the officers inside.

"Sorry about the terrible clutter. I haven't had the time or motivation to tidy." He explained over his shoulder as he led Mal and Natara into the spacious living room.

The room did appear messy but still nonetheless expensive and exquisitely furnished. A white leather couch sat upon an equally white fur rug, and an impossibly huge plasma screen television hung from the wall. Underneath was a series of sleek black DVD players, stereos and VCRs. Mal wouldn't of been surprised if this room itself cost more than his entire apartment.

"Please sit down." Charlie indicated the sofa.

The two officers complied, while Charlie placed his not-considerable but still larger than average bulk in a leather armchair, fashionably weathered and cracked.

Mal got straight down to business, not sparing time for pleasantries.

"I understand that you were once in a relationship with Kayliee Ferndale."

"Yes. I-I was." Charlie appeared nervous.

"How long were you in a relationship for?"

"Uh, about a year. Yes, around 11 months or so. "

"Good relationship?"

"Yes, yes. I mean, we argued, don't all couples? But yes, it was good."

"When and why did you break up?"

"Uh, we broke up around four months ago. It, well, it just wasn't working out. We were arguing a lot. Not just occasionally, daily. We both thought it would be best, for both of us, if we ended it."

Mal nodded.

"I understand you rang us," this was Natara speaking now, "wanted to speak with us?"

"Yes, yes I did. Um, well, something unusual happened. I thought it was relevant to…." He swallowed. He appeared emotional.

"Yes? Take your time."

"To her, um, murder."

"Ok. Well, what unusual thing would this be?"

"My car was stolen."

"Your car was stolen?" Mal asked, seemingly confused, "surely that happens a lot in an area like this?"

"Well, yes. But this time it's different. This wasn't your usual car theft. I noticed that my car was missing around 12am Monday morning."

"Why didn't you call the police?"

"I didn't have a chance to."

"What do you mean?"

"It got returned."

"Pardon?"

"It got returned," Charlie repeated, "I had been to a party Monday night and returned here at around 12am. I went inside with the intention of calling police, but when I happened to glance outside, there it was."

"Did you see anyone suspicious in or near the vehicle?"

"No, unfortunately."

"Do you think the security cameras would of caught something?"

"Possibly, if they worked. Which they don't. They haven't worked since Saturday. They haven't yet been repaired."

Mal and Natara looked at each other.

"Has this happened anywhere else in Melldosa?" Mal enquired.

"No, just in Mayflower. It's pretty bizarre."

"Yeah, it is."

Mal's eyes were drawn to a newspaper, lying on the coffee table.

"Mind if we take this?" Mal asked, indicating the paper.

"Uh, no. Go ahead." Charlie looked confused, but didn't object.

Natara was also looking at Mal strangely, but she didn't make any comment.

"Well, I think we have enough to go on for now," Mal concluded, tucking the newspaper under his arm as he stood.

As Charlie led the two officers to the door, another thought occurred to Mal.

"Mr Fairhurst, what car do you drive?"

"A dark green Cadillac."

…..

Around a minute later, Mal and Natara stood side by side in the parking lot of Mayflower. Natara indicated the newspaper under Mals arm.

"What do you want with that?"

"Well, let's just say that I think it might help our investigation."

"Another gut feeling?" Natara asked, smiling.

"Yep. Another gut feeling."

**Oh-ho! The plot thickens! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, I didn't realise I'd get to update this quickly! Well, like I said, I'm going to try and squeeze in as many chapters as I can during today and Sunday. I'm really getting in to this fanfic writing! It's pretty addictive actually. I know I've said this before, but thank you so much for all the lovely reviews, it means a lot, it really does. **

**Here's Chapter 5. Enjoy!**

Chapter 5

The next morning, Mal and Natara were once again in the parking lot of Mayflower apartment block. Charlie Fairhurst had given consent for his car to be searched, which was a relief. If consent hadn't been given, Mal and Natara would have needed to apply for a search warrant, a process which could take several days. On closer inspection, the car did indeed turn out to be a dark green Cadillac. The licence plate? HF327YD. Kai, noticeable from a distance due to his ever present migraine-inducing shirt, was leaning in the car, jar of fingerprint dust and brush in hand.

"Morning Kai," Natara greeted "have you found anything?"

The tech turned around to face the officers, his glasses askew and his usual grin in place.

"Yessir! Found prints all over the place, which isn't unusual considering it's a car. I've found what looks to be three different sets of prints, although they'll have to be analysed back at the lab to confirm."

"Well, that's good news."

"We'll have to go and get some prints off the floppy haired Golden Boy." Mal said, his blue eyes on the tower block that loomed a few metres away.

Natara rolled her own eyes, a thing she seemed to be doing a lot recently. And not just at Mal either. When she went to see him last night after work, Oscar seemed distant, distracted. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong, and he wasn't exactly forthcoming with his problems, putting his mood down to stress from work.

_Yeah, well, I spent my day tracking down a brutal serial killer. How's that for stressful? _She thought bitterly.

She shook herself out of her brooding when she noticed Kai staring at her.

"What?" she demanded, a little too forcefully.

The tech seemed a little taken aback. He mouthed silently for a moment before regaining his voice.

"Uh... um, I was saying that I found some blood on the passenger seat," Kai explained, "it looks like the killer tried to wipe it off, but didn't quite get it all. Take a look…" he offered, sliding out of the car to allow Mal and Natara to peer inside.

Across the grey fabric of the passenger side seat were several reddish drops. The drops began on the far right side of the seat, seemed to grow larger in the middle, and then reduced in size again on the left side.

"It's as if," Natara began, "the killer opened the passenger side door and threw something bloody, I'm betting the murder weapon, onto the seat. The blood pooled in the middle of the seat and then dripped across the left side of the seat when the killer picked up the weapon again and exited the car with it."

"Sound theory." Mal said approvingly.

"We need to find that weapon."

"Well, negative for a weapon," Kai said, "but we did find _this…" _

The tech bent down and picked up a clear evidence bag. Inside, there was what appeared to be the top half of a…..

"Is that a _suit?" _Mal asked.

"Yup. Pretty damn fancy one to. Vintage Armani, no less. There are quite a few bloody marks around and in the sleeve."

"Hmm. That's weird." Natara was thoughtful.

"That's all we found, unfortunately."

"Well, thanks Kai. This'll be a great help."

"No problem. Seems a bit of a waste really, a nice suit like that. I mean, if I was gonna kill someone, I'd do it in a tracksuit or something, not a…" he stopped when he saw two pairs of disapproving eyes on him.

"Not that I _would _kill anyone. I just appreciate a good suit, Mal will back me up, right?" he looked at the Detective hopefully.

"In your dreams Kalaba."

"I'll let that one slide, since you've been such a great help. Come on Mal, let's collect the evidence and then get some prints off of Mr Fairhurst."

…..

Later, Mal and Natara were sitting in the precinct bullpen, awaiting the results of the blood and fingerprint analysis.

"Have you profiled our killer yet?" Mal enquired.

"Well, I've written up a basic profile, yes, since that's my job." Natara was smiling.

"Hit me."

"Well," Natara began, "I'm betting the killer is a white male in his 20s or 30s."

"Makes sense, since that fits the profile of 90% of all known serial killers." Mal grinned.

"Bear with me. Since there have been victims in various areas around the city, I'm also betting that he lives in San Francisco and knows the place well. Maybe he grew up here. Because all of his victims are female, he probably has a hatred of or vendetta against women. Abusive or absent mother, maybe."

"Or maybe he just chooses women because they're easy victims. They're easy to overpower."

"Oh Mal, that's sexist. Some of us can stand up for ourselves you know." Natara grinned.

"Oh, I'm sure _you _could." Mal said with a laugh.

"Hm. Well, you're idea is possible. Maybe he drives around the various neighbourhoods, searching for his victims. When he's focused on one, he follows her until he's ready to strike. Since there's isn't any obvious connections aside from the colour of the victim's hair, I can't see how he could have found them any other way."

Mal picked up the newspaper he had taken from Charlie Fairhursts 'apartment and studied the front page. It was dated from Friday the week before, before Kayliee had been killed. He flicked through it and then flung it back on the table. It fell open.

Natara ran a hand through her hair.

From across the station, Mal noticed Detective Ken Greene approaching.

"Yo guys," he greeted when arrived, "heard about what Kai found in Mayflower."

"Yeah, seems pretty weird, huh?"

"Sure. Why would the squirrel have blood _inside _his sleeve?"

"Unless he had a hidden blade or something."

"That's actually not a bad idea, Mal." Natara said.

Mal seemed taken aback, but then grinned.

"Of course," he drawled, flicking his hair dramatically, "I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

"You just keep telling yourself that." She replied, smiling.

"Look lively guys," Ken warned, "the Captain approaches."

The Captain was indeed approaching. And judging by her expression, she wasn't happy.

"Hello, Captain." All three officers chorused.

"Hello Detectives and Special Agent," she said tersely and quickly, as if she had no intention of wasting time on pointless greetings, "a bad development, I'm afraid."

"What's happened?"

"Charlie Fairhurst has gone missing."

"What?" Mal said, outraged, "We saw him only three hours ago! Maybe he just went shopping!"

"No. I don't think he did."

"Why? What makes you think that?"

"Neighbours heard a struggle and called police. When officers arrived, they found his apartment ransacked, him missing, and…"

"What?" Natara wondered whether she dare ask.

"A… a heart. Painted on the wall. In blood."

A chill ran through Natara's spine. Judging by everyone else's expression, they felt the same. Mal and Natara shared a glance, before Mal's eyes fell to the newspaper, open on the desk before them, and to one thing in particular.

The Lonely Hearts Column.

**I actually freaked myself out with that ending. . This was really, really rushed, but hey. Hope you enjoyed! **


	6. Chapter 6

**WOAH! Things are really starting to heat up, aren't they? XD Please enjoy Chapter 6! **

Chapter 6

Mal and Natara grabbed their coats as they raced through the precinct bullpen. They didn't know how much time they had, but they knew that it was running out. Ken was in the middle of investigating another case, so he couldn't accompany the two, but he promised that he'd help them out if things go too hot.

Just as the two reached the door, Amy Chen came sprinting up from the lab, a wodge of files in her hand. Her usually alabaster face was flushed.

"Wait!" she cried, "I think you might need this!"

The two about-turned and Amy thrust a particular file into Mals hand.

"After running the three sets of prints through AFIS, there was a match to one of the sets."

"Who?"

"Take a look."

Mal opened the file to reveal a picture of a slightly chubby man. With blonde hair and green eyes.

"Charlie Fairhurst?"

Amy nodded.

"He was arrested earlier this year for…." Natara read.

"Domestic violence and battery. Allegedly, his girlfriend came into the ER with a black eye and bruises. She said she walked into a door, but hospital staff saw through it."

"His girlfriend? Kayliee?" Natara asked, her eyes wide.

"The very same."

"Thank you Amy, this puts a new spin on it. We'll…"

"Wait! There's more. Around ten minutes ago, a call came through to police saying that there were sounds of a struggle in an apartment in Kryslier Heights."

"Kryslier Heights? Maybe that's where Charlie's gone! Thank you Amy!"

The two officers turned again and sprinted the last few feet to the door.

"Good luck!" Amy called.

She felt that they were going to need it.

…

Meanwhile, 'Martin' paced around his flat, barely able to contain his rage. Charlie sat on the floor before him, a rag in his mouth and his wrists and ankles bound. No. No. NO! This wasn't how things were supposed to happen! He had a 'date' tomorrow. A chance to add to his collection. Now this, this, obstacle stood in his way! He turned and advanced towards the cowering man, his face suffused with his rage

"What did you tell them?" he hissed.

"I… I just told them about the car! I…. I didn't even..."

"LIAR!" 'Martin' roared.

Charlie jumped.

"You could ruin everything! EVERYTHING! All my hard work! But no, no I won't allow that to happen! WE won't allow that to happen. Will we, my dear?"

As 'Martin' spoke those last words, he turned and gave a sickly grin to a picture of a pretty blonde woman behind him. The picture itself was faded and creased, but was hung in an ornate gilt frame and was surrounded by lit candles. The glass cases of his 'collection' stood beneath it.

Charlie gulped.

"No. I don't know how much you've told them, but I know that it's too much." A knife appeared within the tattered sleeve of 'Martin's' shirt, and the sickly grin was still in place as he advanced upon Charlie.

"NO! NO! Please, I swear I didn't tell them anything! I swear! NO! Please! I..."

The rest of his words were lost in his scream.

…

Mal had just pulled into the parking lot of Kryslier Heights, tires screeching, when the scream rang out for a few seconds before it was quickly, brutally, cut off.

Mal and Natara spared each other a two-second glance before they both jumped from the car. The noises appeared to originate from one of the ground floor apartments, so that's where they headed. Every door they came across for several minutes was kicked open to reveal indignant or terrified tenants, but not the person they were looking for.

Finally, the door of the second last apartment was kicked open to reveal….

Silence. Absolute silence.

_Deathly _silence.

"Hello? SFPD!" Mal called, his gun raised.

No reply.

"Mal! Look!" Natara hissed, nudging Mal before gesturing with her head to the floor.

Blood and broken glass littered the carpet. It appeared to lead into the living room, a sparkly, bloody trail, like some morbid version of Hansel and Gretel.

The smell of blood hit them as they stepped into the living room, cloying and metallic.

What greeted them was carnage. Complete, horrific carnage.

Laying bound on the living room floor, covered in blood, was Charlie Fairhurst. A single knife wound was in his throat.

Pearls, tufts of black foam and shards of glass littered the carpet. A gilt picture frame, snapped and smashed, was thrown into a corner. Whatever picture may have been in it was gone.

"My God. What the hell happened here?" Mal asked, staring about the room in horror.

"A better question would be _who _the hell caused this horror? It's obvious that Mr Fairhurst didn't put that wound in his own throat."

"Damn. I was beginning to think that he might have been our guy."

"He obviously abused his girlfriend, but he didn't kill her. At least, he probably didn't."

"Well, we need to…"

Mals words were abruptly cut off as another smash rang out. This time it appeared to come from the back of the apartment, near the bedroom.

"Get him!" Mal roared.

Natara wasted no time in sprinting towards the source of the noise, gun loaded and poised. Mal followed close behind. When they reached what appeared to be the bedroom door they paused, listening intently.

Silence.

Mal wound up and kicked the door in, wooden splinters flying.

The room was deserted.

A bed, messy and clearly unmade, stood against the farthest wall, and a cheap wooden nightstand stood beside it. Apart from that it was empty.

"Damn!"

"He isn't long gone," Natara said, indicating the window. The glass was smashed, and the cheap net curtains swayed gently in the faint, inconsistent breeze.

"Uh, Natara…"

"What?"

Natara turned from the window to find Mal staring at the wall above the bed in clear horror.

She followed his gaze, and her stomach seemed to drop into her feet as her eyes fell upon it.

A shape, drawn on the wall in blood.

A heart.

**Wow, things are starting to get intense! Hope you enjoyed! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, thanks for sticking with this story so far! Here's Chapter 7! This one's a little shorter than the others. **

Chapter 7

"Come on!" Natara yelled, startling Mal out of his horrified trance. "We might still be able to catch him!"

"You're right!" Mal said, suddenly alert.

Natara lead the way, deftly jumping up onto the windowsill and, being careful to avoid the broken glass, dropping to the ground below. As it was a ground floor flat, the drop wasn't considerable. Mal followed close behind.

"Where do you think he went?" Mal asked, squinting into the distance.

"I'm not sure. Did he have a car?"

Suddenly, there came the sounds of a commotion a few metres down the street. The two officers glanced in the direction of the racket just in time to see a man fall to the sidewalk, a red stain blooming on his shirt. His car, which he had previously been occupying, sped off down the street, its tyres screeching.

"You check him out, see if he's ok! I'll bring the car round!" Mal commanded, already sprinting off in the direction of the parking lot.

Natara did as she was told. The man had been stabbed in the arm. He was pale and trembling from shock, but the wound wasn't life-threatening. She radioed for an ambulance and waited for Mal and the car to appear. They did, and Natara hopped in the passenger side. The getaway car was no longer in sight, but the sound of rubber screeching on tarmac was still audible, so it couldn't have gotten far. In the distance, the distinctive siren of an ambulance signalled its approach.

"Follow the tyre tracks!"

"I'm on it!"

Mal pushed on the accelerator, keeping his eyes firmly on the black stripes on the road ahead.

As the two cars wound through the tightly packed streets of Kryslier Heights, 'Martin' felt like his head was about to explode with his rage. This was NOT the plan! Why must there always be obstacles? WHY? His mementos were stuffed into a black plastic trash bag, which sat on the passenger seat. Every so often his eyes fell on it and he felt another sharp twist of anger in is gut. All this work, ruined. Or soon to be. No, he mustn't think like that. He mustn't. His love would not like that. She needed this. Needed it as much as he did. He couldn't let her die. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. They were still on his tail. Damn! This wasn't going to work.

He sped the car a few metres further down the road, and then grabbed the trash bag off the passenger seat and exited the car. Here, he had an advantage. He looked up and saw the familiar 'For Sale' sign hanging lopsidedly in one of the windows of the shabby buildings that surrounded him. He smiled. Perfect. He knew exactly where he was, but it wasn't likely that those pursuing him did. He ducked into the nearest alley just as Mal and Natara pulled into the street.

Clutching the trash bag close to his body, 'Martin' slunk down the narrow passage, peering round the fetid brick walls, looking for the familiar glint of metal. Aha. There it was.

The ladder bracketed to the alley wall was freezing to the touch, but that didn't bother 'Martin'. Only one thing bothered him anymore.

He rapidly climbed the ladder and found himself on the roof of a small building he knew was abandoned. The surface under his feet was wet with recent rain, and he stumbled and briefly lost his footing, dropping the trash bag as he did.

Cursing and mouthing apologies, he retrieved the trash bag and carefully jogged the last few feet to the battered metal staircase nailed against the wall of the opposite, taller building.

Once there, he navigated the spiralling steps until he came to a door. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pushed it open and descended into the darkness beyond.

…


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello! I know, I know, I haven't updated since the dawn of time itself, but I've had good reasons, honestly. I had loads of exams before we broke up for the Christmas holidays, as well as coursework deadlines, AND assignment deadlines for the under 16 college course I do once a week. On top of that, my mum has just had pretty major surgery, and my family and school work kinda take priority over my fanfiction xD But do not fear! I have a new chapter for you! Enjoy! **

Chapter 8

"Jeez, where the hell are we?" Mal demanded as he stepped out of the squad car and glared at the unfamiliar buildings that surrounded him.

"I'm not sure," Natara admitted, stepping out of the passenger side door, "but it looks like we're in the right place." She said, tipping her head in the direction of the stolen car that stood a few paces away, its tyres still smoking.

"So, which direction to take?"

"Well, he was pretty adamant that he was getting away from us, so he wouldn't have gone anywhere that was out in the open. Best bet? Alleys, small, dingy passageways."

Mal continued to glare about, before something down a nearby alley seemed to catch his eye.

"Way ahead of ya!" he called over his shoulder before bounding down the passage.

"Hey! Wait!" Natara called after her partner, before swiftly following him.

Mal bent down and plucked something from the fetid, stained ground.

"Earrings. How bizarre." Natara said, scrutinizing the object lying in Mals' open hand.

Mal turned his head to look up at a nearby building.

Something was glinting on the roof. Something small and round.

The two officers' gazes met.

"Worth a shot." Natara shrugged.

Mal was already across the alley and pulling himself up the ladder that was bracketed to the building.

"Be careful!"

She knew that the ladder wasn't the only thing Mal needed to be cautious of.

'Martin' was sitting on a tattered couch, holding the black plastic bag in his lap, hugging it tight to his chest like you would a teddy bear. He was shaking. Shaking with rage and sorrow.

Fear.

He pressed his cheek to the smooth plastic and began to whisper softly.

"Don't worry. Don't worry. It's okay. We'll be fine. They… they, they don't know about this place. It's our little secret, isn't it? Yes. It's okay my love. It's okay."

He peeled one arm away from the trash bag in his lap and reached into his trouser pocket.

He felt a wooden handle, the cold sharpness of a blade.

He hissed in pain and took his hand away. A red wetness bloomed on his fingers.

"Good. That's good. Nice and sharp. Nice and sharp. Swift. No fuss. Then we shall be free my love. Free once again."

He wrapped his arm around the bag again and grinned into the darkness.

A loud scuffle and thump just outside the door made his head shoot up and his nerves rattle.

He snarled briefly, but then the grin was back in place.

"Looks like our freedom shall be granted sooner than we hoped. That's good. Fantastic even. I've ever been one to be kept waiting. I'm a lot like you in that way, aren't I my dear?"

Another set of footsteps followed the first, followed by a female voice.

'Martin' wiped his bloody fingers on his trousers and continued to stare into the darkness, and the vague shape of the door on the other side of the room. Faint sunlight, emanating through the cracks around the doorframe, pierced the blackness.

Two figures blocked the sunlight briefly.

"Ah. Two this time. One of them a male, sadly. Bu don't fear. Once the outer shell has been stripped away, we're all the same within. Isn't that right? Yes. Yes, I know it is. Now we wait."

"Do you hear that?" Mal asked, cocking his head.

Natara was silent for a brief moment, before she nodded and placed a finger to her lips.

_A voice? _Mal mouthed. The sound was very faint, but there nonetheless.

Another nod.

_There's a staircase, and then a door. I think it's coming from behind there._

Natara began to slink stealthily towards the spiralling steps ahead, Mal following closely behind. It was difficult to navigate the steps without causing a ruckus, but Natara thought, well, sincerely hoped, that they had succeeded.

Once at the top, they spotted it. A door, rusted and buckled and hanging crookedly in its' frame. The noise had stopped. Either they had imagined it, or whoever it was that was making it had stopped.

Listening.

_Should we..?_ Mal gestured towards the door.

Natara understood, and gave a brief nod.

_On three…. _She mouthed.

Mal took a few steps back, retrieving his gun from the holster at his hip.

Natara armed herself with her own firearm.

_One….._

Mal tensed.

_Two….._

Natara felt as if time itself was suspended.

_THREE!_

Mal charged forward and dealt the door a savage kick, sending it flying off its' hinges. Natara hurried in behind him, her gun pointed into the inky blackness, finger on the trigger.

"SFPD! FREEZE!" Mal roared.

A rustle. Followed by a fumbling noise.

"I said FREEZE! Or we'll shoot!"

"I'm sorry, Detectives. We're not very happy at your intrusion. You could of at least knocked. It cost nothing to be polite, even before your inevitable deaths." Spoke a voice from the darkness.

"Who are you?" Natara called, not taking her finger away from the trigger.

"You can call me Martin."

**OMG! Shiz is about to go down! :O Thanks for sticking with the story so far! I'll try and update ASAP! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi! Omigosh. Sorry for the huge delay in updating! It was caused by a combination of homework, exams and plain procrastination on my part. School is closed today, due to the fact that there is about 6 inches of snow outside (ah, the joys of an English winter!) and I'm ill with a rotten cold. Anyway, enough from me! Here's chapter 9! Enjoy! **

**Oh, a little side note: There is some bad language in this chapter. **

Chapter 9

"Come into the light, where we can see you!" Mal commanded.

"As you wish, Detectives..." 'Martin' drawled, standing up and taking a few steps out of the room and into the blazing sunlight. The bag was still in his arms, obscuring most of his face.

"Drop the bag!"

'Martin' complied, placing the bulging bag carefully at his feet, sitting it in such a way that it didn't lean and spill any of its contents. That simply wouldn't do. He smiled at the Detectives. It wasn't friendly. It was like the way in which a shark or alligator would grin at its prey before pouncing.

Natara kept her gun trained on the man before them. He was tall, around 40 years old, with pitch black hair. He was handsome in a cold way, with sharp features and eyes like a hawk. He was wearing a smart blue-grey suit, vintage and undoubtedly very expensive.

Natara was just making this observation when she saw the distinctive glint of sunlight on silver within the sleeve of said suit.

"Put the knife DOWN!" Natara screamed, her finger edging closer to the trigger of her gun.

'Martin's' eerie smile widened.

"Ah, I'm afraid that won't be possible my dear. You see, I…"

The rest of his words were cut off abruptly as Mal and Natara pressed the triggers of their guns simultaneously. A nearby bird took flight at the noise, screeching indignantly.

One bullet flew straight through the air and into 'Martin's' shoulder. Her grunted, more in surprise than anything else, and stared in bafflement at the blooming crimson stain.

The other bullet grazed the surface of the plastic bag, splitting it wide open, before embedding itself in 'Martin's' right knee. This time, instead of grunting in bemusement, he bellowed. It was like the bellow of a bear that has just gotten a snout full of pine needles, a roar not just of pain, but of rage.

"HOW DARE YOU!" 'Martin' screamed, dropping his cool, drawling demeanour, "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

It became apparent that he was not referring to the damage done to his knee.

The bullet had split the plastic bag down the middle, spilling its contents everywhere. Earrings, pearls and diamonds now littered the floor, some making a small _ping _as they bounced down the staircase.

Before Mal had time to react, 'Martin' charged at him, his face suffused with his anger. He slammed into him with the force of a bulldozer, crushing Mal against the steel bannister. The Detective could not help but scream as he felt several of his ribs crack.

'Martin's' knife had fallen out of his sleeve in the scuffle, but that didn't deter him. He wrapped his large hands around Mals' throat and began to choke him.

"MAL!" Natara shrieked. She raised her gun, ready to fire, but realised with a sudden dread that she couldn't get a clear shot. If she pulled the trigger, she risked shooting her partner too.

Something about the fear and panic in Natara's voice gave Mal a sudden surge of strength. With his vision rapidly fading, he threw his gun to the ground, reached his hand up, and pressed his fingers deep into the ragged bullet wound in 'Martin's' shoulder. It had the desired effect.

'Martin' bellowed again and released his hold on Mal's throat. Mal, with pain running rampant throughout his body, used the last reserves of his strength to shove Martin away and take the four or so steps it took to place himself beside Natara on the other side of the landing. He swayed and then stumbled, falling to his knees, shaking from the agony.

Natara, seizing the chance Mal had given her, let another three bullets fly from her gun. They hit 'Martin' in rapid succession, each one pushing him further towards the stairs.

'Martin', like Mal, was struggling to stay on his feet. He swayed like a sailor who was on land for the first time after a long sea voyage, but he didn't fall.

_My God, _Natara thought, _he's strong. So strong. _

As if hearing her thoughts, 'Martin' turned towards Natara, the smile back in place. By now, his suit was soaked in blood and he was taking deep, heavy breaths.

But still he did not fall.

"STAY BACK, OR I'LL SHOOT AGAIN!" Natara screamed, this time aiming her gun at 'Martin's' head.

'Martin' laughed, a horrendous, barking sound, and then hunched down, as if to charge again. He took two rapid steps forward.

And that's when he stumbled.

Natara saw shock register upon his face for a moment before his feet came out from under him.

_Yes! _Natara thought with joy, _the pearls! They're everywhere! _

'Martin's' head connected with the metal floor, and Natara, in spite of herself, winced at the ghastly sound of 'Martin's' skull cracking.

_Jesus, _Mal thought, lucid despite his rapidly departing consciousness, _he can't survive that, can he?_

He could.

Natara took a few cautious steps towards the still form lying among the blood and the pearls. She bent down to check his pulse.

And that was when he grabbed her wrist.

Natara shrieked, and raised the gun once again…

"No…. wait… please…." 'Martin' whispered.

His eyes were so pleading, so desperate, that Natara lowered the gun. She was not, however, taking the risk of letting go of the gun altogether.

"Tell….. tell Gloria. Tell her….. that I tried. Tell her that… I'm sorry….." 'Martin' choked, "You….. you win…"

He released his grip on Natara's wrist. With his eyes staring blankly at the Californian sky above, while he finally accepted that what he wanted would never come to be…. 'Martin' finally died.

**Three weeks later:**

Mal slid out of his car. God, it felt good to be able to drive again. He looked up at the familiar sandstone building, and felt like he was home again. He pushed open the precinct doors and strolled into the bullpen. Detective Ken Greene was the first to arrive, grinning broadly.

"Yo, Mal! Good to see you again buddy!"

"Good to be back Ken."

"Miss Fine Fed is waiting to see you."

"Natara?"

"Who else?" Ken smirked.

Mal returned his grin and continued on through the precinct, smiling occasionally as his colleagues shouted out greetings.

Finally, he came to his partner's desk. She was sitting hunched over some paperwork, her shiny coffee-coloured hair falling in a curtain around her face.

Mal rapped smartly on the wooden surface to announce his arrival .

"Knock knock."

Natara looked up, and her face lightened.

"Mal!"

She stood up and threw her arms around her partner, and Mal winced slightly as his healing-but-still-broken ribs complained.

"Hey, good to see ya! Uh, Natara, could you loosen your arms a little? I'm still a little tender…" Mal grinned at his partner's joy nonetheless.

"Oh, of course! I'm so sorry!"

Natara released her grip on Mal and stepped back, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling.

"So, the Captain finally allowed you back, huh?"

"Yep. I tell you what, Nat, if I'd had to stay in that damn hospital any longer I would have had to kick somebody's ass."

"Ah, how I've missed your scowling and griping."

"Is that all you've missed?" Mal asked, his grin widening.

"Oh shush!" Natara said, swatting him on the arm, "Captain Yeoung wanted me to fill you in on our Lonely Hearts killer."

"Ugh, I've had enough of that psycho to last me a life time…"

"I know, I know, but she wants you to be kept updated and informed."

"Huff. Fine then, fill me in."

"Well, 'Martin' turned out to be called Gregory Shipman. He was a 42 year old former tailor."

"Hm, I was wondering where he got all his fancy suits from."

"No comment. Anyway, Amy ran the prints we got off his body through various police and government databases, and it turns out that his wife, Gloria, died in July of last year. He was devastated. He practically worshipped her."

"July? That's, what, only…"

"Two months before the murders began. I know. Also, his wife was blonde."

"And all his victims were blonde."

"Exactly."

"Which means?"

"Don't you see Mal? His wife, blonde, whom he loved dearly, died. Just a few weeks afterwards, he begins killing blonde women and stealing personal items from them. What does he do with them? Keeps them in his apartment along with a picture of his wife. With the last victim, he took her hair."

"Don't tell me… He was trying to…." Mal looked shocked.

"Bring his wife back."

"But that's crazy!"

"Exactly. He obviously suffered a psychotic breakdown after her death. You know I told you about the stages of grief? The first stage being denial? Well, Gregory took it one step further. He never came around to accepting her death. _Couldn't. _In his twisted state of mind he believed that if he collected things that reminded him of her, he could bring her back. You know what he said to me, before he died?"

Mal shook his head.

"Tell Gloria I'm sorry. Tell her that I tried. He obviously believed his wife's spirit still lived on, and he simply needed to create a body for her to come back into. It wouldn't surprise me if he was schizophrenic too."

"That's messed up," Mal said glumly, "messed up and, well, kinda sad too…"

"You're right. I'm just glad it's over. When he charged at you, had you pinned, and you screamed…."

Mal could see tears welling up in his partner's eyes, and he was momentarily stunned. Natara never cried. She was tough.

"Hey, hey. It's alright. It's over. Gregory is gone." Mal reached out and brushed her cheek with his hand.

Natara blinked back her tears and smiled up at her partner.

"I know. Just seeing you back here confirmed it for me, made it feel like it truly was over."

"See, told ya my scowling wasn't all you'd missed…." Mal drawled.

Natara looked up into Mal's eyes, breathtakingly blue, and felt like she'd come home too.

**Fin. **

**Well, that's my first fanfiction done. I just added a touch of Maltara at the end, cuz I know how much we all love it. The ending was kinda rushed, well, very rushed actually, but there you go. If you've stayed with this story all the way through, then thank you! You don't know how much it means to me! Much love! X **

**Cheers!**

**Hannah (CobaltRose96) **


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